


Into the Rabbit Hole

by orbiting_saturn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Face-Fucking, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:17:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbiting_saturn/pseuds/orbiting_saturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He might have been performing for Misha a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Rabbit Hole

Jared isn’t quite drunk, but he’s pleasantly buzzed. His head’s just a little muzzy and his vision is murky on the edges. The place isn’t big, but it’s packed with people, the music and laughter is loud and there are hot girls doing jello shots in the kitchen. Jared should make his way in there, get to flirting so maybe he can score some sweet little thing for the night, but his heart isn’t in it. 

Misha keeps sneaking into Jared’s peripherals, seeming to know every person in the place and flitting from one group to the next. He sways around the borders of Jared’s eyesight, slim-lined and flushed from the body heat, from the beer he keeps pouring over his pouting mouth. And Jared tries to distract himself from it, teams up with Aldis at the beer pong table, coaxes tequila shots onto an already wasted Chad just to see him get so shit-housed they can dress him up in girl’s clothes, piggy-backs Danneel so she can press beer caps into the popcorn ceiling and lets himself enjoy the tight press of her thighs around his chest. 

It all works for a while, he thinks, but when Misha’s suddenly gone, Jared realizes it never did. In fact, he might have been performing for Misha a little. “Look at me, look at me, see how much attention I’m not paying to you?” 

As soon as that ghost in the corner has disappeared, Jared deflates a little. His woozy head gets a little woozier and he can really feel the tequila and Coors now. Everyone else is still going strong and it looks like some of the girls are starting to lose their shirts, but Jared doesn’t care much. It’s too warm in here, sweat’s sticking his hair to his face and neck, clinging his shirt to his back and his pits. Swiping his arm across his forehead, Jared squeezes past Aldis and some blond girl bumping and grinding to get into the crowded kitchen. 

The back door is wide open and Jared stumbles into the cross-breeze, head tilting back on a groan from the sheer bliss of cool air on his heated skin. Jared gets a little rude and pushy, has to suck in his tummy to push past Jensen, but bumps him into the tattooed guy he’s jawing with anyway. “Shit, Jay!” Jensen complains when his beer sloshes over the top of his cup, sliding yellow and foamy down his hand and wrist. Jared doesn’t care. He needs out of here right the fuck now. 

Jared trips onto the back porch, sucking in a nice long breath, sneakered feet heavy and thumping on the weathered wooden boards. For just a few seconds, Jared just enjoys the cool, breezy night, evens out his breathing while he pats away the pooling sweat and combs his matted hair away from his sticky face. A low, husky chuckle off to the right alerts Jared to the fact he isn’t alone out here. He _knows_ who it is without looking, has been haunted by him through the whole night, so why should now be any different? Jared looks anyway, can’t seem to stop himself. 

Misha’s leaning back against the house, bare-chested with his t-shirt draped around his neck and shoulders. The light from the kitchen window is painting his profile, catching the uptilt of his smirking lips and shadowing the bumps of his ribs. Jared’s throat tightens when his eyes fall on the low waist of Misha’s jeans, the peek of his underwear hugging his skinny hips. This isn’t how he’s supposed to be, Jared thinks. He shouldn’t get all worked up over another guy’s skin. 

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Misha asks in that rough, amused voice he has. 

“ _What_?” Jared snaps a little, a little annoyed at the way his pulse is kicking back up, the way everything Misha says sounds suggestive and a little filthy. 

“The air, Jared. It’s hot as Hades in there.”

Jared is edging closer, without thinking, feet carrying him further and further from the safety of the crowd. Misha’s smirk spreads into an off-kilter smile that closes around the lip of a beer bottle. Both his lips purse around it, all wet, and Jared knows how pink they are even if the shadows make them gray to Jared’s stare. 

The party high has kept Jared horny all night, his dick staying plump and ready for just a little stimulation and it’s getting there now. He sneaks closer and closer, closer than he’s ever let himself get to Misha ‘til he’s standing just inches apart, staring down, eyes jumping to every shadowed feature. Misha’s eyes are too dark, but Jared can tell that they’re heavy lidded. It’s those lips he keeps snagging on. 

“What do you want?” Misha asks, breath gusting out all along Jared’s sweaty neck. It’s warm, but his skin tightens anyway, breaks out in a rash of tickling goose bumps. Misha’s voice is teasing and knowing, just a little bit wanting, but Jared can tell he’s playing things close to the chest. 

Jared’s voice gets stuck in this throat for a heartbeat, his jaw aches it’s so tight and every part of him wants to grab at Misha. Before he knows he’s gonna do it, Jared reaches out, curves his big hand around the sweat-tacky skin of Misha’s neck. A tremor goes all through Misha, one so hard Jared can feel it in the pads of his fingers and the heel of his palm. “Your mouth,” Jared finally answers, barely sounding like himself, voice too rough and low to really be him. He feels possessed and needy, fully hard in his jeans and aching to have warm and wet all around his dick. 

There’s just a brief moment of clarity, one where Jared thinks about stepping back, finding a girl or taking care of his need in his own time, but when Misha’s tongue slips out to wet his lips, it falls away. It’s no big deal anyway, a mouth is a mouth. Doesn’t mean anything, right?

“Where do you want it,” Misha gruffs out, tilting his chin up with this defiant little edge. His chin rasps stubble rough against Jared’s, the burning scratch of it sends sensation straight down to his groin.

“Don’t be fucking cute,” Jared grits roughly, tips in enough to kill the slight distance, presses himself all against Misha’s front. His hips grind into the cut of Misha’s pelvis, the hard line of his cock digging in. “You know where I want it.”

Jared’s hand is still curved over the back of Misha’s neck, so he gives it a squeeze and a pull, just the hint of pressure to urge Misha down, down where he wants him. Misha sighs a little, goes with it nice and easy so Jared can feel every inch of that warm little body slinking down. Jared shuffles back just enough to give Misha room. 

On his knees now, Misha presses his face right into the crotch of Jared’s jeans, takes a deep breath of him, scenting him. It can’t be good, Jared’s been sweating all night, his balls all damp and his dick head leaking precome into his boxer briefs. Misha groans anyway, opens his mouth around the hard bulge and pants into the thick denim. Jared should feel a little guilty by the way his hips punch forward, but he doesn’t, doesn’t feel anything but Misha’s warmth. 

“Don’t tease,” Jared warns, fingers twining deep into the thick hair on Misha’s crown. It’s damp and heavy, long enough to grip so Jared does it, tightens his fingers into a fist and pulls a little. 

“Fuck,” Misha moans, low and long, get his hands up trembling and eager. Those pretty fingers of his make quick work of Jared’s fly, flick the button and slide down the zip and they both watch the way Jared’s hard-on parts it open under its heavy weight. 

“Fucking huge, aren’t you, Jared?” Misha mumbles, hooks his fingers into Jared’s boxers and pulls the elastic carefully over the curve of his flushed prick. “God.”

Jared wants to say something smart-assed, tease Misha over how eager and reverent he sounds, but he can’t get his thick tongue to work, can’t get over how stupid hot this is. 

Misha dives right in, slips his lips around the crown and suckles slow and soft, tongues over and over the slit until Jared can’t hold back a groan. He doesn’t want to be too loud, knows that someone could stumble out on the porch any minute now, but can’t seem to care. Not with the way Misha’s hot, wet, perfect mouth is sliding down his length. There’s just the slightest suction at first, Misha’s grip guiding the head to bump along the ridges of his pallet, so smooth and soft. His mouth stretches wide, takes more and more, slowly adjusting to the girth. 

Jared’s legs start to tremble a little, his balls getting tighter and tighter with each up and down slide of Misha’s mouth on his dick. He gets a palm flat against the rough side of the house, tilts his hips and thrusts a little, can’t not. Misha hums all over Jared’s cock in this really fantastic way so Jared guesses he doesn’t mind too much. The hand Misha palms Jared’s ass with confirms it when he pulls Jared forward, urges him deeper and deeper into the tight clutch of his throat. 

Jared has never once let himself fuck someone’s mouth. He’s only ever been with girls, always too aware of his size and the need to be careful. Seems like Misha can take it though, drops his grip on the base of Jared’s dick so he can take all of it. And he does, the sweet fucker, relaxes his throat, curls his tongue and just lets Jared use him. 

If Jared wasn’t drunk, this would already be over. Everything Misha’s doing is so stupidly hot, like nothing Jared’s ever had, but he’s so freaking glad the booze is giving him the staying power. It’s too good to be over quick. Misha’s keeps making this gulping sound every time Jared hits the back of his throat and there’s spit leaking from the corners of his stretched lips. The light from the kitchen window is falling just perfectly to highlight the flush of his face and the fluttering of his closed eyelids. 

Jared watches himself slide in and out, watches in awe as Misha scrambles his own pants open and pulls out his dick. Jared hasn’t seen another guy’s hard junk in real life, porn doesn’t count, but the sight of it makes Jared lunge in harder, choking Misha a little before he starts stroking. 

The pace quickens then, Misha stroking himself so frantically that Jared wants to match him. Can’t get enough of watching the spit shiny base of his dick gliding in and out of those reddened, drooling lips. Jared tightens his grip in Misha’s hair, tilts his head a little further back and gets deeper, impossibly deep. Misha hums and moans, swallows and jerks under Jared as he comes. 

That’s all Jared needs to finish, balls drawing up and emptying hard with dizzying pulse after pulse. His come fills Misha’s mouth, gets shoved down his throat, but leaks around the edges and smears his lips and chin. It looks filthy and amazing and gets a few more pulses out of Jared just from the sight of it. 

Jared fucking collapses, knees gone to jelly from the force of his orgasm. His soft dick falls out of Misha’s mouth under the impetus of his downward slide. Jared’s knees end up bracketing Misha’s, his forehead falls into sweaty curve of Misha’s bare shoulder. Misha lets out a peal of drunk-sounding laughter, strokes a hand through Jared’s hair. “Ya okay, dude? Didn’t come your brains out, did you?”

“Mmmm,” is Jared’s oh-so clever response, hummed out against Misha’s cool skin. Thoughtlessly, Jared’s opens his mouth, slicks his tongue through the salty sweat. It tastes good, cleaner and fresher than his own, but coarser than a girl’s. 

“Fucking unhinged my jaw with your monster cock,” Misha groans, shoving Jared back with his palms over Jared’s pecs. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Try not to freak out too much, huh? Jensen’ll get pissed if things get weird between us.”

“Yeah, um,” Jared mumbles, suddenly embarrassed and flushing. He looks down and fumbles his dick back into his pants. “Don’t worry about it. No big deal.”

“Sure, kid. Whatever you say,” Misha says, sounding amused and bothered at the same time. 

Jared gets himself straightened up first, fast because he’s so eager to be elsewhere now. He gets up clumsily, flushing again when Misha laughs at him crab-walking across the splintery porch. “I, uh,” Jared stutters when he’s on his feet. From beneath his eyelashes, he can see Misha still on his haunches, wiping the come from his face with his t-shirt. Jared feels guilty and proud all at the same time. He did that, messed Misha up so much. 

“Uh, thanks,” Jared finally throws out. Then he flees, like a fucking coward, just ditches out to hide in the waning crowd of the party.


End file.
